Mobility

 

I work (for now), I love, I live, I have fun. Just with wheelchairs and drugs and spasms and stuff...

 
1 January 2023
A profile pic of me, a white middle-aged wheelchair user. Mouth wide open and a green Mohican. In one hand is a lit sparkler. In the other a half drunk glass of champagne. I’m wearing a nonsense load of silly clothes.

My New Year’s Evolutions

Time to utter the traditional refrain, “I’m not very good at New Year’s Resolutions.” Change hurts my MS’d up brain after all. But but but, if I want to continue living a fantabulous life, I need to make some changes to accommodate my progressive and progressing Multiple Sclerosis. 2022 was a toughie. Medical retirement from www.shift.ms  hit me like a long, slow slap round the chops. Three or four months of a total loss of sense of self. A hint of despair. A soupçon of misdirected regret. Oodles of deep, deep sighs. Silly really. I was staying stupidly busy with my family, my speaking engagements, my patient and disability advocacy, my writing, my nonsensing as an anti-fashion guru. Not to […]
18 April 2020
A man lies sprawled in the shade. He is lying across a sofa, asleep. He is wearing pyjamas, with his T-shirt riding up to reveal a less than glamorous belly. He has a dodgy Mohican haircut.

Covid-19 ain’t no flu. My Coronavirus and my Multiple Sclerosis

Yikes! Well that’s been a fun two weeks or so. Not. Lockdown all started out ok. The sun was out and I was set on getting just a bit fitter. This brief video of me exercising is not speeded up. At all. No sir-eee https://youtu.be/lKE6OAxR9HI Then, just as the U.K. was approaching peak cases and hospitals were heroically, desperately bursting at the seams, I developed the main symptoms of Covid-19. A constant, exhausting and painful dry cough. A fever. In my case, a sore throat and a touch of nausea too. And anxiety through the roof. A doctor call-back confirmed I probably had it, as did a dashed paramedic visit to our son, who also had Covid-19, but with an […]
21 July 2019
On stage with text behind him, mark is seated. And dressed smartly!

Since When Was I Disabled?

My short-term memory may be shot to pieces by Multiple Sclerosis and hardly helped by chronic fatigue. Yay, I can blame everything on MS! But my long-term one is crystal clear. I can vividly remember the first time I mentioned the word ‘disabled’ about myself, and it was a fight to get the words out: Costa Coffee, Leighton Buzzard. 2009 perhaps, two years after diagnosis. Ordered myself a Latte and a Tiffin (that’s rich chocolate and crunched biscuit naughtiness for the uninitiated). And realised as I ordered that I was having a particularly wobbly day. Only half the coffee would reach the table if I carried it. “I’m slightly disabled, do you mind bringing the coffee to my table?” I […]
16 July 2019

A Glutton for Funishment

Oh dear. There was me thinking I had come up with the word ‘Funishment’ all on my own. I was wanting to describe my Tough Mudder/Wheelchair Rugby/Skydiving adrenaline fetish. And it turns out fetish is thoroughly appropriate. Funishment is apparently defined as ‘a pleasurable way of being punished, usually in a sexual way.’ Oh.     There was nothing sexual whatsoever about being manhandled like a sack of potatoes by a dozen guys and gals over, under and through 15 devious Tough Mudder obstacles. Especially on the multiple occasions I got a wedgie, or my ‘special pants’ were on display while being dragged over the line or a high wall.     Why exactly did I love it? Why do I […]